silent night
by Pythonmelon
Summary: Just a little fluff, Vole x OC


Vole sighed. He was tired, annoyed, and bored. Work that day had been slow. Little happened, and the day dragged on. Not even a small village bloodbath had been there to speed things up. Oh yes, it had been an excellent day to wear his maroon uniform. So to be truthful less than little happened. Nothing happened at all.

Because of this dreadful boredom he had spent most of the day among the engines and stored doomsday devices of Castle Wulfenbach. Why? Because of one of the best listeners on this entire floating castle. One of the few Jaegers who would have anything to do with him. The Jaeger who couldn't talk back even if he wanted to.

Because of Virgil. The scrawny mute who practically lived among machines. The one who breathed exhaust fumes like fresh air and whose blood ran black like motor oil.

The Jaeger had no qualms about the fact that vole was a no-good double-crossing jagertroth-denouncing violent-even-for-a-JAGER creature. At least none that he spoke about. He just went about his day, listening to the opinions and sometimes rants of his bloodthirsty companion, offered him an occasional cup of gross black coffee, and sometimes smiled or nodded or shook his head to express a thought about whatever topic was being discussed that day.

He was shy and, put very frankly, a little bit wimpy. During the time he spent with the other Jaegers he rarely picked fights. He was usually just a rowdy spectator or minor participant at the most. So did you expect him to tell Vole to leave? Well no, of course not. But he didn't just listen because he had no choice. He actually liked Vole.

They often went on break together, had sloppy encounters in the wee hours of the morning sometimes, and that made Virgil happy. Happy and sweaty and proud of himself as if he had accomplished something, the way he felt when he solved a problem in the depths of the Wulfenbach airship or when he built his own clanks.

Vole hadn't a single care for this sense of accomplishment, but didn't go so far as to bash it. In fact he didn't find it in himself to badmouth the Jaeger other than for whatever reason still being loyal to the Heterodynes. He just tolerated it, drank the gross coffee, and chatted to the mechanic as he worked.

He worked almost constantly. There was always something that could be fixed, improved, given an upgrade. Even if he bathed regularly he probably wouldn't stop smelling like gas and sweat.

Vole stopped contemplating Virgil's scent (Why had he been in the first place?) And slung himself out of his seat at the tale Virgil kept his toolbox on. He prepared to go to his quarters for the night, checking the wall clock and realizing it was nearly midnight. "Virgil hyu best get op and got to bed." He nudged at the leg of the Jaeger, who was leaning over an open panel, with one boot.

The other didn't react. Usually he was up and getting ready to go to his own room in a matter of seconds. Upon closer inspection Vole saw that the other monster was fast asleep, chin propped in one hand to mimic awareness. He must have worked himself to exhaustion without Vole noticing. Not surprising, as the former Jaeger was usually on his own train of thought.

"Get op." He shoved Virgil's hand out from under him, making the other man's hand thwack satisfyingly against the metal. Once again no response. Vole muttered, considering just going on and leaving him here to maybe burn himself awake on a scalding pipe or something.

Something from his ever-so-slightly better nature urged him otherwise. Apparently for once he was listening. Vole began to groan angrily but halfway through it transformed into a thunderous yawn. He muttered a few curses before pulling Virgil out of his chair, grabbing the man by his boots, and beginning to drag him away.

"Dem Virgil… sleeps like a God dem rock…" Could be heard echoing through the mostly silent halls. It was very late after all. The only sounds accompanying Vole's dragging footsteps and curses was the occasional scream from a victim somewhere in the labs.

He dragged the Jaeger along at a pretty slow pace, between 'sleep walker' speed and 'this will leave a carpet burn on his face' speed.

Finally after one flight of stairs, one elevator trip, and one wave of desire to just abandon him lying in the floor of the elevator while he escaped to be, Vole arrived at Virgil's quarters. Vole dropped the foot he had been dragging the Jaeger by and fished into a back pocket on Virgil's jeans with two fingers. He found what he wanted and retrieved the key card, opening the door and hauling him inside.

The officer had been in here only a handful of times before. It was messy, not very well decorated, and smelled exactly like its tenant. Well, with the added scent of old food and bed sheets in need of washing. He wrapped his big hands up under Virgil's arms and hefted him up like a sack of flour. "Stupid." He sighed before hauling him inside and tossing the Jaeger into bed. This left his face on the wall, one leg hanging off the side, and the other in a suspicious position.

Vole dusted off his hands. He prepared to leave, hanging the key card lanyard around one of his partner's pale orange horns. He opened the door again to drag himself to his own room (two more elevator trips and one tricky fountain) before frowning slightly more than before. He grabbed a blanket from the floor and tossed it over Virgil's form. He ruffled his hair gently before leaving, easing the door closed behind him.

When the door was shut, Virgil opened his eyes and smiled ever so slightly.


End file.
